Thursday, January 31, 2013

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Valentine massacre...

I think some people think that love is only relegated to boxes of chocolates or warm and fuzzy feelings. And so when nitty turns to gritty and pitty gets downright shitty, the unrealistic expectations regurgitate until there are straying eyeballs, and then *woops* a bright and shiny new partner with big tits or a large bank account appears. The heartbreaking part of this is that children become involved and (sadly) their lives are built on their ego-filled parent (or parents) who will inevitably do it again (and again). 

I don't get this.

Most of these types don't understand that marriage is a marathon not a series of orgasmic sprints piled on top of each other. Leaving is easy. Anyone can do that, but sticking with it and making it work is worth exploring -  since most people can't do it. 

Marriage isn't what they think. There is nothing even-stephen or fuzzy-Mclovey about it. Sometimes they have to sacrifice without getting one single thing back...  many times, years go by when things are not peachy, fuzzy or fun...  if they could hold onto these truths and stop making it all about "their needs," they might get what they asked for in the beginning...

a real marriage.

My husband's mother is eight-four and crippled. That is, until you take her to Nordstrom or Macys when she becomes a Gold medal awarding-winning bargain shopper. If you take her to Saks, she elevates and heals people at the makeup counter, and walks on water afterwards. Call Joel Osteen for a prayer vigil...

 it is a freaking miracle..

Monday, January 28, 2013

You can tell you are getting older when you wake up in the morning, look in the mirror and need to say... "cut me Mick."

Friday, January 25, 2013

the affair.

I'm so sorry, blog. I've been cheating on you with my Twitter account.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

getting old.

My white hair and I went dancing at a nightclub last night... at least five people came up to me and said, "awww, good for you."  I felt 91. eek

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

2013 - a reflection.

So.... I wrote and deleted three pages on violence and guns because I figured everyone reading would think I had gone crazy. All this violent behavior is making us all a little nuts, and I'm not sure if dying isn't a much better idea than watching all this mayhem.

Then, I think of my babies and I worry more about their future. How scary. And don't get my started on social media. I think most of it is awful, and yet I am tweeting now to Edward Burns (my screenwriting hero) as though I want him - and he is old enough to be my teenage love-child. I do that with books too - if I like something, I read them all... beat them all down with a I-love-you-so-much-stick until I'm so tired of it all that I need some more Pinot. Resolution #3 is trying to refrain from becoming a budding alcoholic.

I am beginning to be able to see my imminent death in my minds-eye. I'm going for ninety, but even then, that doesn't seem so far off. I think I am the only person in the world who isn't afraid of my own death. My theory is that if you are truly scared to die ---->you haven't lived.... and among the plays, the band, the book, the friends, the kids, the painting, the blog, the piano, and the illusions of grandeur that keep me going minute-by-minute... I am just not so worried about kicking the bucket, and that, my dears is an accomplishment in and of itself. My grandchildren think I'm a little nuts (I kinda like that) and my children are truly beginning to appreciate what they used to shun in my bizarre attempt to be myself. Most people don't do that and are far too worried what others think (played that game; won it; bought the t-shirt; not impressed).  I have so many interests that I forget what they all are, which makes life a fascinating buffet for me.

I don't believe in funerals and so I won't have one. I think they are stupid and depressing. However, I DO believe in parties to celebrate life and hope my family will throw me one of those. Of course, if they don't, I won't care as long as they go to a bar, drink some martinis and/or Jack Daniels and play some Motown. Some Marvin Gaye, maybe?


I'm off to go eat up something new.



Oh, Marvin...